The Unexpected Gift
by LunaStellaCat
Summary: Amelia Bones didn't expect to fell in love. When she married Benji Fenwick, she didn't expect the holidays to be such a challenge. This was written for a Christmas Challenge. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know what you thought, if you'd like.


"The Unexpected Gift"

24 December 1975

Marriage ended up being a funny thing. Amelia Bones had been married less than two years, and she already found herself coming to this conclusion. At twenty-three, she found herself doing exactly what she told herself she wouldn't do when she left Hogwarts. She fell in love and tied the knot before she had a chance for her Ministry career to skyrocket. She was a Bones. Promotion came with the name. All she had to do was stay on the right path and think with a level head.

This was before Benji Fenwick popped the question in the law library. He was attractive, a stocky man with thick blonde curls and a friendly smile. He specialized in family law and basically made magic out of nothing without even raising his wand. Benji was nine years her senior, something her brother, Edgar, never failed to point out, yet the years simply melted away when the two of them were together.

Over the last few months, they went to work, and they went to bed. Benji really wanted children. He'd actually pointed that out on their first date; it was nonnegotiable, something that could make or break their relationship. He had left excellent girls for this very reason. He was the youngest in the family; he had five elder sisters in his Muggle family. The Fenwick family owned a chocolate shoppe and a local restaurant and lived for family gatherings. Christmastime was a nightmare.

Benji rolled over and covered himself with the grey sheets. "You enjoyed it that time. It makes me feel better. You want to go again?"

"Your mother's in the kitchen," she said, smiling slightly when his face fell. She stayed stock still, although Amelia doubted whether any of this nonsense worked.

"Yeah. Never mind. She won't shut up." Benji got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. Dressed, Benji walked around the bedroom and tried to find his shoes. He sounded agitated, yet Amelia knew his anger wasn't directed at her. "She keeps asking me why you're not pregnant. And Dad asked me why I'm not giving up our bedroom for guests. I can't exactly tell him, can I?"

Amelia shook with laughter, still trying to stay still. "It's not funny."

Benji rolled his eyes and opened the bedroom door. "Uh huh. You're very helpful, thank you. See you downstairs."

"Benji." Amelia stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at him. She hated when her voice came out weak and uncertain. "What if it's me? What if we can't have any children? Martha has Isabelle."

"Ah, Isahelle," said Benji, falling back on his tried and true nickname for his least favorite niece. He stood there for a moment, thinking. "It's not you. We're young, so just enjoy it. We have impressive success rates in court, right? You're standing at ninety-seven percent. My wife's amazing. We've got this. See you in fifteen minutes."

He left. Amelia didn't bother with pointing out one had absolutely nothing to do with the other. She got dressed, pulling on a simple red dress Benji had purchased for her earlier that week. If they were hosting Christmas dinner with a house full of Muggles, she might as well play the part. Before heading downstairs to join the madness, she braided her hair with quick fingers, slipped on a pair of expensive heels, and grabbed Benji's shoes off the wooden chair by the antique writing desk.

Benji thanked her for the shoes. Amelia walked into the sitting room and tapped a sleeping man on the shoulder. Charles Fenwick, longtime syndicator and correspondent to the iTimes\i, was her favorite relative on Benji's side of the family. He was unmarried and childless, though he was a gentle, patient soul. Amelia handed the man his glasses off the end table and kissed him on the cheek before he offered him an arm. As Benji was his favorite and only nephew, she enjoyed the freedom she got around Charles.

"You're a pretty girl, Amy." Charles gave her this compliment all the time. She never tired of it. Nobody else, except for her brothers, called her Amy. "I finished my article on St. Paul's Cathedral. You want to read it?"

"After dinner, uncle." She walked into the dining room and held the chair out for him.

Dinner went by smoothly until Isabelle lost her head over something or another and gave over to an awful tantrum. Annoyed, Amelia placed her napkin on her plate and took the little girl forcibly from the table, ignoring her parents' protests. When the girl struck her, Amelia picked her up and carried the screaming spawn into the upstairs bedroom. Isabelle hit her again. At the end of her rope, Amelia slapped her hard in the face with an open hand. Isabelle, surprised more than anything, scooted towards the shower. Amelia stared at her raised hand, a little shocked herself, though she gave the girl no apology.

Isabelle asked if she could leave. She actually bothered with a "please".

"No. You're awful. Damn it." Frustrated she got thrown off on her one chance to finally tell Isabelle off, Amelia rushed over to the toilet and vomited. This was the third time this had happened in two days. Isabelle complained when her aunt got sick again. Amelia, suddenly tired, rested her head on the cold toilet bowl. "Get your uncle, please."

Isabelle left the bathroom door open and left the bedroom. Benji came up a few minutes later, his hands in his trouser pockets. Charles came with him. Amelia asked for him to search her grey pocketbook. After he dug through her things, Benji stood in the bedroom, speechless. He walked into the bathroom and knelt down on the cold tile floor bedside her. He showed her two devices on a plastic bag. Charles stood in doorway.

Benji sounded close to tears. "You're pregnant."

"We're not telling your family. And don't get too excited. It's early. I meant to tell you tomorrow." Amelia took the washcloth he handed her and cleaned herself up. After she brushed her teeth, she laughed softly when Benji rested his hands on her stomach and started kissing her neck. She caught Charles's wink in her reflection. She pulled a straight face and turned around to face Benji, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm serious, Benji, you're not saying a word."

"No," Benji agreed, letting her go.

"I want the evil spawn out of my house, Benjamin. If I've got to purchase a hotel room for Martha for three nights, I'll do. She slapped me. Twice!" Amelia glanced at Charles, who was laughing his head off. When Benji asked what she did, Amelia had no shame. "I hit her. Someone needs to control her. If I had acted that way at my father's table, he would've put me in the ground."

"You're my favorite niece," said Charles, hugging her when they walked into the bedroom. "How far along are you?"

Amelia shook her head because she didn't know. When they started throwing out names, she threw up her hands in exasperation. The two men sat on the edge of the bed of the bed. Charles placed his hand on his nephew's shoulder, alight with happiness. They spent the afternoon in the bedroom and avoided going downstairs at all costs. When Benji conjured food from midair, a stash from downstairs, Charles clapped his hands like a child enjoying a private magic show.

10 September 1976

He finally decided to show up after an arduous twenty-seven hours. Exhausted, Amelia collapsed in the bed and just laid there. Charles asked to be there; Amelia flat-out refused to let Benji invite anyone else. She wanted to do this at home, no matter what, and Benji let her after losing the same argument countless times. Charles delivered the baby, and he stayed with her the entire time. When Benji started doing his pacing thing and wearing tracks into the carpet, Amelia insisted he go to work and jump into a court proceeding. Around one o'clock the next morning, Charles held their son and wrapped him in a blanket.

"No." Amelia shook her head when he offered the baby to her. She smiled weakly when Charles walked over and handed the baby to a sobbing Benji. "You were amazing, uncle, thank you."

"Would now be a bad time to mention I've never done that before?" Charles dried his hands on a clean dishtowel and sat on the edge of the bed. He kissed her hand.  
"You did all the work. So, what are we calling him?"

"I've never done this before, either." Amelia nodded at Benji. "Tell him."

"Charlie." Benji caught his breath when his uncle wiped his eyes with a shaky hand. He fed the man's own name back to him with one slight change. "Charles Jonathan Edgar Bones Fenwick."

"Why me?" Charles's voice sounded uncharacteristically small.

"Are you kidding?" Benji walked over and stood by the open window. "You taught me how to read and write. When my parents said no, a hard no, you let me go to Hogwarts. You supported me until I got on my feet. You gave me an escape."

"From your mother or your sisters?" Charles shared a good long laugh with Amelia. When she complained it hurt, he apologized. Benji was basically his adopted son; he was listed as Charles's sole heir. He nodded at the sleeping bundle in Benji's arms. "You have a beautiful boy."

"Yes, thank you, uncle." An owl arrived. After kissing his boy on the forehead, Benji walked over and placed the baby in Amelia's arms after reading a quick note. He walked over and tossed the news in the bedroom fireplace before he grabbed his camera. Charles leaned in closer to Amelia and smiled before his nephew took the shot. Benji walked over and checked the cot three times; this was his nervous tick, making sure they had everything in order. He acted like this in court during difficult cases; his researchers hated him for it. Satisfied, he stepped back and said, "I have to step out, but I'll be back within the hour. You're staying, aren't you, uncle?"

"You're leaving?" Amelia, knackered, thought he must be joking.

She held the baby close as he started to fuss, feeling like she played the role of mother and someone would surely release her of this charge. Charles helped her position the baby for a feeding before he followed his nephew outside. She could hear them arguing through the walls. She closed her eyes for a moment, finding their heated voices oddly reassuring, before she examined her son. Benji had taken off the kid gloves. He'd been treading around her like she was a landmine or something over the last couple days. She'd gotten whatever she'd wanted throughout this chaos; Benji, straight-faced, and calm in the face of the storm, let her call him horrible things.

The baby was small, nothing really special. She counted his fingers and his toes, although she had a feeling Benji did this already, for he was forever married to the details. When he opened his grey eyes and placed his tiny hand on her skin, her voice caught in her throat with an unexpected wave of emotion.

"Hello, Charlie. I'm your momma." She heard the door open and kept staring at him. "You can go home, uncle. We'll be fine."

"I'm fine where I am, thanks," said Charles, sounding spent. He'd taken off the following day. He did step away to grab a shower and get into his night things. He came back in looking beyond tired as he sank into the wooden chair. "He wants another one."

"That's madness. He clearly wants a divorce," she said jokingly. She'd never dream of challenging the head of the family law division. She lay a sleeping Charlie on her chest. "He asked for five of these. I've agreed to two. I am no cow."

"That's my girl. Knock him down." Charles picked up the baby and placed him the cot at the end of the bed; he helped her into the shower before putting back in bed. Amelia eventually fell asleep when it started raining outside.

25 December 1978

Two years later, she found herself in the same state. This one came with no effort at all. Thankfully, the Fenwick family took Benji's none too friendly hint and promised to leave them alone this holiday season. Benji threw Nancy, the weepy, clingy sister out of the house when she showed up in the middle of the night. She had ended it with her boyfriend...again. She currently slept on the couch in the sitting room. Even though her brother was the baby of the family, Nancy and the whole lot of them knew Benji was a softie who fought to keep the family together. Amelia woke up with a start around five o'clock, startled, though she relaxed almost immediately, realizing it wax just Benji having a legal discussion with the baby. He rested his hand on her belly.

"Benji, nobody cares about you backdating child support." Amelia lie back, listening to him run through case histories.

"She does." Benji continued with his lengthy discussion. He turned to face Amelia when she groaned. The crying came out of nowhere. Benji switched on the bedside lamp and gave her a blank expression. "What is it?"

"It's Isahelle. I can feel it." She wiped her eyes furiously, angry at the sudden tears, yet they wouldn't stop. "Charlie's perfect and she's going to come in and ruin it."

"She's not! Please don't be Isahelle." Benji spoke to her stomach as he patted it. He got out of bed, tightened his house robe, and went to go answer the door. Charlie's fingers slid under the gap on the floor. Opening the door carefully, Benji scooped his boy into his arms. Charlie had thick blonde curls and chubby hands. "Let's go make Momma breakfast. Merry Christmas, Charlie."

"Morning, Charlie." Amelia smiled at him and closed her eyes when they disappeared down the corridor.

Christmas Day was one of the few days the courts actually closed their doors. She didn't get bombarded by owls or got asked a writ of something or another. She usually took a day off from life on Christmas. Benji, who took a step back from the Ministry since Charlie, took things less seriously these days. She must have been drifting off to sleep because, the next thing she knew Benji placed the laden tray on his side of the bed and crawled on top of her. He made quick work of it.

"Where's Charlie?" She enjoyed his touch.

"Downstairs with Nancy. We're fine. Are you feeling all right?" He took her cry of pleasure as a yes and started moving his hips. "Thank God. I've missed you."

"Benji. Benji!" Amelia looked up when the door opened and her sister-in-law stood there. She started screaming. Benji, embarrassed, jumped out of bed and zipped up his trousers. Amelia fixed her house robe.

"Do you mind, Nancy? Get out!" Benji threw a pillow at his sister, but he missed, and it hit the now closed door. Amelia covered her face with a pillow and tried to erase this from her thoughts. It had never happened. "Next year, we're skipping Christmas. I'm ill that day. Make it the entire week."

Amelia highly doubted this would happen, but she let him rant as she dug into breakfast. She stirred her hot chocolate with the peppermint stick before she drank it. They shared breakfast in bed every Christmas morning and read the i Times\i together. Thanks to Charles, they got a free subscription to a major world publication. Benji climbed back in bed and helped himself to scrambled eggs and toast.

"Did you make Nancy breakfast?" Amelia actually liked this sister; Nancy was sister number three. When she wasn't heartbroken, Nancy was rather pleasant.

"She's got two working hands. What am I? A charity? Charity's getting married by the way. Try the potatoes. I cured her hangover. My part's done." They toasted large glasses of orange juice. He switched to a high-pitched tone, imitating a combination of his mother and sisters. "'Benji, please. I can't do this. Can you do this, and this, and this? You're never home!' I work fifty hours a week, and that's with me cutting back. These women!"

"Hmmm." Amelia opened the paper, not knowing whether to act offended or not.

"Not you. I share your bed. I love my girls." Benji sipped his black coffee and rested his hand on her stomach again. "So, I've been thinking."

"We're not having another baby just so you have another boy. We agreed. I'm done. What's to say this is a girl, anyway?" Amelia read Charles's article about the Underground as they finished breakfast.

"It's a girl. That's my daughter." Benji had nothing to back this up. The child, whether a boy or girl, would arrive in February. "I want to call her Eleanor."

"Eleanor." Considering the name, Amelia folded the paper, running her fingers along its creases and set it on the bedside table. Benji had lost a case about a small girl who carried that name. It was an exhausting case. Mr. Nott's girl, a Squib, had been found dead buried on the estate. It had started out as family law, though Benji saw all his cases through to the end, especially when children got involved. He came home crying the day he lost that case because nobody fought for that little girl. She placed her left hand over his. "I like it."

"It's Eleanor. Great." He reached into the bedside table drawer and handed her his gift. Amelia, pulling herself into a comfortable sitting position with difficulty, opened her own drawer and handed him a small black box. He watched her open the gift, a smile on his face. "It's nothing."

"An expensive nothing," she said, not believing him. Amelia opened the lid, recognizing the jeweler. Gold script was written on the lid. It was a silver infinity loop necklace entrusted with sapphires. He remembered her birthstone. She started crying again, hugging him. "It's beautiful."

"You pick up on these things with five sisters." He asked her to get up so he could put it on it. Benji helped her out of bed and kissed her neck when he fastened the clasp. "I love you, woman. Thanks for my children."

"Open yours." She squeezed his hand. Benji raised an eyebrow and opened his one-handed. He found a golden pocket watch inside and held it to the light, examining it carefully. "I found it."

"Is this Uncle Charles's? You restored it." Benji, excited, flipped it open and critiqued the antique watch face. This had been given to the original Charles Fenwick on the day of this christening in the 1920's. Setting it on his bedside table, he stroked her face and kissed her passionately. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I love you." Amelia got dressed while he went into the bathroom. When she got downstairs, Amelia watched a handcrafted train set chugging along in their sitting room. Benji saw work still needed to be done. He freed his frustrated sister and finished it with an almost lazy flick of his wand. Charlie, elated, parked himself on the floor. She crossed her arms and watched her son from the kitchen as she watched the breakfast dishes wash themselves.

"Where'd you get that?" she asked.

"Charles. He handcrafted it. Didn't I tell you?" Benji shrugged off the mistake when she shook her head, amazed. Amelia pulled on a large apron, and he tied the back of it. "I have a smaller one. It's in the attic. Ooooh, I bet the train set matches! I'll be right back."

"All right." By the time she'd said anything, he already started dashing upstairs. She checked the roast chicken in the oven Benji had started earlier. She started on the potatoes and a colorful array of bell peppers after setting the timer. Nancy helped with the salad. Amelia, who knew she'd lost her husband for the day, decided to keep things simple. She stood in the pantry, lost. "I need a cook."

"What's the problem?" Nancy, like the other sisters, often found Amelia's lack of acting like a proper housewife a stain on the family. She poked her head inside the pantry and took a quick inventory. "Cream of mushroom soup."

"Cream of mushroom soup," said Amelia, resting a hand on her back and nodding at something that made absolutely no sense to her. None of it registered. Benji had returned from upstairs and roared like a madman. Amelia poked her head out. The boys got to work on the second set. "Shut up. Don't Muggles have that in a can, Nancy?"

"You didn't just go there. On Christmas Day? Really? You married this one?" Nancy stepped out and addressed her brother. Nancy appeared scandalized and turned back to Amelia, her lips a thin, severe line. "You are dead to me."

Amelia reorganized things in the pantry. "Sorry."

"Amy burns toast," said Benji, speaking to his sister. "She can barely separate an egg."

"I work ninety hours a week, okay?" She frowned apologetically Nancy, who looked honestly disappointed. Amelia sidestepped out of the pantry. She helped herself to a box of chocolates; the Fenwicks always sent the same gift. "You need someone to file a complaint or organize an appeal? Come find me."

"How do you feed Charlie?" Nancy raised her eyebrows when Amelia pointed at her brother. Benji had been taken over by his inner little boy and acted like a five year old on Christmas Day. She seemed to relax her shoulders a little. "Yes, that makes sense. Have you tried his ratatouille?"

Amelia slapped the counter with clean dishtowel. "Benji!"

"I can't, woman, I'm busy." Benji hadn't caught a single word of their conversation and gave his prepared response. He threw his arms up when he finally connected the lines together. The train raced down its tracks. "Yes!"

"Good job, Benji." Nancy took a tin off the container and carried it over to the boys. Benji dug right in, lying on his stomach, and reading Charlie a book. She walked back in the kitchen and started slicing mushrooms and chopping onions. "You realize you married a schoolboy?"

"I know." Amelia stood there watching them with a small smile. "You spoiled him to death."

"Yeah, well, he's the baby of the family. He's so happy." Nancy looked over her shoulder. "I don't understand this magic stuff, but he adores you. He talks about you all the time. You're brilliant."

Amelia had never received a compliment from one of the sisters before. Biting her lip, she tucked a loose strand behind her ear. She thought Mrs. Fenwick was predisposed not to like her. After all, Amelia had stolen her only boy. Benji was nearly in his mid-thirties, but she'd always be that woman's baby.

"Thank you." Amelia was thankful when the doorbell rang. She went to fetch the door and grinned at Charles, who tipped his Ivy cap to her. He handed her a chocolate cake. "Hello, uncle. You're early."

"No, no, you're running late. Is something burning?" Charles picked up his gifts and followed her inside. He grinned when Amelia checked the time, cursing, and ran back into the kitchen. She grabbed the black rolls out of the oven and tossed the whole thing, ruined baking sheet and all, into the bin.

"Damn it." Amelia had forgotten to grab an oven mitt and scorched her hand. Benji rushed over, abandoning his train station, and ran her hand over the tap.

"You have got to be careful," he said, fishing some antibacterial cream from the junk drawer and bandaging her hand with a smart tap of his wand. "Sit down."

Amelia glared at him, her jaw set. "I am fine."

"Sit down now! Your feet look like sausages." Benji opened the oven, grabbed a ladle, and tested the bird tasted and the broth before he pulled it out and set it on the range. "That's perfect. Want to taste, Nancy?"

"I'm sure you hit your mark, Benjamin." Nancy rolled her eyes when Benji tapped his left foot, an uncanny impersonation of their mother. "You're the perfect baby brother."

"Thank you. May I get that in writing?" Benji ducked when she tossed an empty container of cream at him. He shooed her aside and sped up the cooking with his wand as he stirred the mixture. "Your timing's off."

Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia saw her boy throw the red caboose at Benji's uncle. The older man was correcting a mistake in his work. "Charles!"

"What?" Both of them turned to face her. Charles wiped his face with a handkerchief and checked the damage.

Amelia left her empty chocolate box on the counter and snatched her boy away from his toys. Without thinking, she picked him up and felt it immediately in her lower back. She locked his face in her hand and snatched the caboose from him when he picked it up off the floor. "Have you lost control of your senses? You don't ever do that. You hear me?"

"I'm fine, Amy." Charles checked the train set.

"Momma!" Charlie reached out for the toy.

"No! You'll get it back later. Apologize to your uncle." Amelia set him down. She went back into the kitchen and rounded on Benji as he started prepping to slice the bird. "You're just going to let him do it? When he doesn't get what he wants, he gets to throw stuff? That's all right in your book? Of course, it is!"

Benji made a face, taking offense. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, nothing, Benji. It's always nothing. You do whatever you want."

"Amelia, he's three," said Benji, sharpening his knife.

"And when the two of them fight?" Amelia waited for him to say something.

"Take this somewhere else, please," said Charles calmly, picking up the book Benji had read earlier. He scooped up the boy, sat in armchair, and plopped Charlie on his lap.

Furious, Benji placed the knife by the sink next to the sharpener and strode out of the kitchen. Amelia followed him in the powder room, the half-bath, and leaned against the door. After letting the sear down, Benji sat on the toilet. This was right off the kitchen, so this did little good as far as privacy went.

"He's not an adult, Benji, you can't reason with him like he's a client, but you can talk to him Teach him right from wrong. Can you do that for me, please? You give him everything he wants," said Amelia, checking her expression the mirror above the sink.

"I don't," said Benji, resting his hand on the wall.

"You do! He wants to sleep with us? Okay. He wants a sweet before dinner? Okay. He doesn't want spaghetti? You make him something else. He owns you!"

"He's my boy," said Benji quietly, trying to reason with her.

"I know, and you love him. He's a little boy, Benjamin. Wake up!"

"And we're back here again." Benji sounded bored.

"You're spoiling him! He's no prince, Benji! You know what that makes me? I'm the bad guy here. You stand there because I'll handle it." Amelia raised her voice when he started speaking over her. He denied every accusation. "I am! I asked you to put him to bed last night, and what did you do? You played with him in the sitting room."

"It's Christmas." Benji started laughing.

"Yes, yes, it's hilarious! I worked ten hours yesterday. I'm exhausted, Benji. I do not want to sleep with a damn toddler." Amelia slammed her injured hand on the porcelain basin. Benji said he took the boy back to bed. "That's not the point. God, you're infuriating. That's our place. Why can't you understand that?"

"Amelia, come on." Benji got to his feet.

"And you wanted another child. Because you're stupid." Amelia gave a mirthless laugh and slammed the red caboose in his open hand. "When he starts hitting Eleanor and pulling her hair, I will discipline him. I'm telling you now before you lose it. Fix this or I will fix it for you!"

Amelia left. When she took her traveling cloak off the hook, Benji called after her. The others said it was nearly time for Christmas dinner, though she ignored them, saying she needed fresh air. She started walking down the pavement ignoring greetings of 'Merry Christmas' as people went out for their walks. She was just as responsible for Eleanor. She'd said yes, thinking she maybe had at least another year before things changed. It took the first night.

She sat alone on a bench and watched a few children on the community playground. Closing her eyes, she spoke to Eleanor, really sure she could hear her. Amelia probably resembled some madwoman. "It's not you. I am a workaholic and I like my peace. God, I miss sleep."

When she opened her eyes again, night was falling. She checked her watch, realizing she had sat at this spot for six hours. When she started getting drowsily to her feet, she felt a hand brush against hers. Startled, she drew out her wand and pointed it at Benji's chest. He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, and smirked at her until she put her wand away.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Amelia asked sleepily, squeezing his cold hand.

"A couple hours?" Benji shuffled through the folders on his lap and noticed the glow from the lamppost. "That's easier on the eyes. He scratched his quill through an edit and screwed his ink bottle, perched precariously on the iron arm of the bench, closed. "I like watching you sleep."

"That's not disturbing," Amelia said sarcastically, as he gathered his things.

"It shouldn't be. I like when you do this, too." Benji took his hand and tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. He cleared his throat, noticing when her skin flushed with color. He hesitated, thinking about how to phrase this. "Why don't we pay for a room for the night? Let's be spontaneous."

"You want to get a room on Christmas? That's not going to happen." She leaned back and started kissing him. Benji stroked her face, parted her lips and kissed her back. She felt his tongue. She pulled back, feeling short of breath, and gasping for air. A couple of bundled kids watched them in the distance, but neither of them cared. "You're a good kisser."

"Yeah." Benji passed his hand over his face and fell into silence again. "You've never kissed anyone else, have you? How do you know if you haven't got anything to compare it to?"

"Don't overanalyze this. Take the win, Benji." Amelia rolled her eyes when he sat back, content.

She held out her hand, silently asking him to pull her to her feet. When she got to her feet, she felt an urge to use the bathroom, and he chuckled when she walked ahead of him. She ignored everyone and dashed into the powder room. The others had already eaten. When she stepped into the dining room, Nancy and Charles were discussing the Muggle Prime Minister. She sat down to a large bowl of rich cream of mushroom soup. Benji carried another large plate of food to the table.

"I promise Charlie won't be our Isahelle. I sent him to bed early." He drummed his fingers on her shoulders before he sat down beside her. She took the win. Benji placed the red caboose on the white tablecloth.

"That's all I'm saying," said Amelia, taking his hand underneath the table. Nancy snorted into her wine glass and nearly knocked it over. Amelia helped herself to a sip of Benji's wine and joined in on the conversation.

31 December 1979

It always happened in the early morning. He started making love to her, demanding and vigorous, although he never said a word. Amelia took him, crying out, and running her fingers through his thick curls. It felt unreal and wonderful at the same time. Benji fell into a rhythm, making all the right moves, and she shifted underneath him, moving her hands to his hips. When she started kissing him, his body started to shift and he fell apart like a bunch of puzzle pieces pulling away from the whole. A severed tongue fell on the grey sheet on the other side of the bed.

"NO!"

Amelia did not wake up next to her husband. He had been murdered on Valentine's Day. It was a high-profile story that stayed in the papers. It wasn't because he was a successful lawyer or that he was the head of a division, but his remains had been found in a black box. Amelia had seen the evidence when the Aurors had dragged her in for questioning the morning after. The Aurors offered her the highest security, and although she initially declined their services, Mad-Eye Moody himself explained to her in no uncertain terms that this was a non-negotiable order. The memory of the black box sent chills down her spine. She woke up screaming and drenched in a cold sweat almost every night.

"Benji!" Amelia heard his voice in her head as she jerked, wide-awake. Her nightshirt clung to her clammy skin. Eleanor lay on the other side of the bed, crying. Amelia had woken her. The covers had no creases on that side. Amelia undid her shirt with a clumsy hand, pulled Eleanor closer, and laid onto her side, started to feed the baby. She ran her fingers through Eleanor's soft blonde curls. "It's all right. We're fine."

There was no knock on the door. When she accepted the protection, Amelia understood she waved all rights to privacy. Eleanor didn't notice a thing. Frank Longbottom barged in holding his wand aloft. When he glimpsed at the baby, he turned away. He ran a hand through his dark hair and finished pulling on his jumper. He slept with his wife, Alice, in one of the guest bedrooms.

"Ma'am." He focused on a spot on the neutral colored wall. Frank lowered his wand.

"I'm sorry." Amelia apologized for the hundredth time. "Go back to sleep. We're fine."

"Not a problem, ma'am," said Frank, sounding dead on his feet. He checked the time on the alarm clock on the bedside table. It was four-thirty. He dropped at pretense, smiling at her and shaking his head. "Shit."

"I keep telling you it's nothing. It'll pass." Amelia shifted, getting more comfortable in the bed. Always a light sleeper, she'd heard him and his wife come in around three that morning.

"You're a lawyer. Of course, it's nothing until we clean up your mess," he said, apologizing the moment the jibe left his lips. They shared a laugh. They were slowly becoming friends. Amelia, who initially thought Frank Longbottom as some pampered and privileged officer, had fortunately proved her wrong. He'd worked tirelessly along with his other duties over the last eight months. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. Is it the same dream? Alice told me."

"Yeah." Amelia flushed, embarrassed. Frank nodded. "Go to bed, Frank."

"Yeah. Let me know if you need anything. Good morning, ma'am." Frank lifted his left hand, saluted her, and headed back down the corridor.

Amelia wrapped Eleanor when she'd finished and set her on the other side of the bed again after changing her. After cleaning things up in the bathroom and grabbing a cup of coffee from the kitchen, Amelia climbed back in bed, knowing she'd not go back to sleep. She tied the strap of Benji's house robe tighter around her waist and lie back to think of him. This happened almost every morning, too. She crossed her legs and he flooded into her thoughts. She saw his face and heard his voice.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself." Alice had left the bedroom and stood in the doorway. Her long hair fell down her back in a single plait.

"Go away, please." Amelia wanted to be alone with her husband.

"No." Alice invited herself into the bedroom and sat on the bed, sitting on one of her legs. She wore flannel pajamas and held a mug in her hands. "With all due respect, ma'am, his is not moving forward. You have Charlie and this little girl to think about, and you're giving up."

"I go to work every morning. I take every case." Amelia dove into her work and took on a heavier caseload. She'd gained fifty pounds even after the baby, but she didn't care. "I come home, I let the nanny leave, and I take care of them. I put them to bed and I get up. I am fine. We are fine."

"You don't read to Charlie. You don't even talk to him." Alice sipped whatever she had in her mug and looked right at her. She jerked her head towards Eleanor. "You wouldn't touch her if you weren't nursing. You have a very, very lonely boy. I am not Charlie's mother, Amelia."

Amelia said nothing.

"I understand this is difficult," said Alice, patting her leg.

"You don't. You say that … everyone says that … but you don't. Get out." Amelia bit her lip nervously when Alice closed and locked the bedroom door. The woman came back and sat on the bed. Alice could watch paint dry and be content with it. She'd interrogated Dark wizards for hours on end. Never mind that it was a holiday. She'd be here all day. "I'm not ready."

"At least you're admitting it. Quit trying to find excuses to sack your housemaids. It's rude, and you're scaring people." Alice got up. "You have a guest waiting for you downstairs. We're leaving in an hour, so you can have New Year's with your family. Frank's dead, anyway, so you have a good day."

She left the bedroom door open. Amelia, who would rather off hid upstairs all day, got out of bed and yanked the covers up. It was one of the sisters; after she'd written Martha, asking, nicely, she'd hoped, to be left alone during the holidays, she'd gotten nothing but silence. George, her brother, stayed out of it. Edgar, the eldest brother, ignored her altogether and showed up three times a week with dinner.

Amelia took three conservative dresses out of her wardrobe. The sisters sent clothes; it was their thing. The red one, the one that she liked, came from Nancy. The blue one, the one that shot conservative in the foot, was for Charity, the youngest sister. Jasmine and Nell usually stuck with costume jewelry, although they were just as bad as Martha. The black one, a business suit, clearly came from the sister she hated. She pulled this one on after taking a shower and painting her fingers, preparing for Martha, the worst case scenario. The suit felt tight.

"All right, that's the best we can do." Amelia placed her red lipstick canister in the end table drawer and dressed her daughter. "Eleanor, I don't like your Aunt Martha. It's mutual. She needs to jump off a cliff. Ugh. Come on."

She picked her up and headed downstairs, plastering a fake smile on her face. She heard Frank's voice and laughter, and she made a mental note to thank him for suffering through one of the sisters. The baby would be a welcome distraction. Charles sat beside Frank, fingering his pipe.

"You look like a secretary, Amy," said Charles, checking out her outfit. "A tortured secretary."

"Oh, thank goodness. I thought you were Martha or Jasmine." Amelia handed over the baby and shook hands with the Longbottoms before the left. Frank said goodbye to Charles, calling him Mr. Fenwick, and clapped him on the shoulder. Alice reminded Amelia, as always, if she needed anything, both of them were just an owl away. "Hello, uncle."

"Better than Martha, eh?" Charles patted the couch, telling her to sit down before he lit his pipe. He gestured to an open pink box of pastries on the coffee table. There were also four large coffees from a coffee shop. "I stole this from the staffroom today. Don't tell anybody."

"It's six in the morning," she said, helping herself to a coffee.

"Yeah, and when you're woken up at the crack of dawn on New Year's Eve - New Year's Eve - I ask you - you find you don't really care. The newcomer didn't know how to speak with the publisher. I've been writing for them for forty years. It's a pastry box and some overpriced coffee, they'll live." Charles, making himself at home, bounced the baby on his leg. "Isn't that right, little darling? Charlie's still in bed?"

"Yes." Amelia took a pastry. "Benji should've written for the paper. I think he would've enjoyed it."

"Yep. I told him that. He could've written for your paper, too. I would've keep him busy." He was right, of course. Benji would have been an excellent correspondent to the iDaily Prophet/i because he'd learned the trade at his uncle's knee. Charles sipped his coffee, setting it back on the table when Eleanor wanted attention. He cleared his throat, taking a long drag on his pipe. "How are you?"

Amelia almost gave him the usual answer. She told everyone she was fine. Charles wasn't everyone; he was like her second adoptive father. She slipped off her uncomfortable black shoes. "Benji's birthday is in four days, and he would've been twenty-six."

"Yep. I plan on calling in sick that day. That day's for drinking." Charles finished his first coffee and started another one. "They still haven't found who did it? There were four of them?"

Amelia nodded. She knew what he was going ask next.

"I want to see the box." Charles stuffed more tobacco in his pipe. "And I want a seat in the courtroom. I want to see the bastards."

"No." Amelia shook her head, covering her mouth with her hand. She spoke through her trembling fingers. "You say that, Charles, but you - you want no part in this. I can't let you see him like that."

"Wait a moment. Benji wasn't my son, but I raised him. I helped shape that boy." Charles got to his feet and shifted Eleanor in his arms. His voice shook. "They dragged him into an alley and chopped him up like a butcher. Who does that?"

Amelia had no answer because she'd been asking herself the same question for months. Benji was a simple family law lawyer.

"Are you still feeding this one?" Charles nudged Eleanor, sighing when Amelia said yes. He handed over the baby and picked up two bags, shaking each one before he slammed them on the coffee table. "This one is a costly bottle of Pinot Noir, and this is formula, so you can take off a few days to get it out of your system. Martha thought of that."

"Uncle," said Amelia, quelling under his icy glare and shrugging her shoulders. He insisted they were drinking this evening. Nancy would be babysitting and taking the kids off of her hands. "All right. We're drinking."

"Thank you." Charles relaxed again and went into the kitchen to find a place to chill his wine. "What're we telling the boy about his father again? He keeps asking me, and I want to make sure our stories match. That's all."

"Not the real story," she said, pacing the sitting room with Eleanor.

"Obviously. We don't want him in a mental hospital." Charles took two goblet wine glasses out of the cabinet and set them facedown on counter. Amelia explained the accident. Charles nodded, improving on her story a little. "Benji was driving down Oxford Street, and he got in an accident on the way home. The car flipped over. He died on route to hospital."

Amelia called to him from the couch. "He could drive?"

"Of course, he could drive! I taught him automatic and stick." Charles paused, going back to clarify a little. "There are two types of transmission: automatic and stick. My jeep in your driveway is stick. I prefer mine old school. I think Benji did too, because he liked the clutch. We drove up to Edinburgh once for the hell of it. He had lunch in the grass, enjoyed a little window shopping, and came right back. Didn't even know I stole him that day, did you?"

"Oh." Amelia had no idea. The driving threw her for a loop. She smiled at him, for Benji had slipped through her fingers. Charles took his wallet out of back pocket, found what he was looking for, and walked over to her to show her the photograph. Sure enough, there were two men laying in the grass reading a large volume. Benji held a half-eaten apple in his hand. "No, no, I didn't. You are the most adorable person I've ever met in my life."

"And yet he never married. A grown man can't be described as 'adorable', Amy, it ruins his pride. He can't be cute, either. That's worse." Charles took his wallet back. "I can drive you up to Edinburgh if you'd like. Not today, obviously, because it's New Year's Eve, and I'd rather live."

"Besides, we have a date." Amelia took out her wand and conjured a light green baby blanket. She laid Eleanor on it and kissed her stomach. Charles grinned when he heard the baby's laughter.

"We've a date," he said, putting his hands in his pockets. He waited for Amelia to take a sip of coffee before he threw down his one condition. He probably knew she'd burst out laughing. Coffee went up her nose before he finished his request. "You can't wear that. I look at you, and I see Martha. I don't drink with Martha or her mother."

Amelia didn't call Charles's sister-in-law by her first name. It was Marianne. She referred to her as Mrs. Fenwick. Actually, she got comfortable with calling her this, and it kind of stuck. Marianne really wasn't so bad. She wasn't Martha for one thing. Marianne had wanted her son, her poster boy, to attend prep school and get accepted into some prestigious university. Maybe he'd go to law school or become a doctor. Benji got where she'd wanted, although he took his own route and saw things differently.

"I'm not Mrs. Fenwick," she said, getting to her feet when he offered her a hand. They left the baby on the couch. Charles always found it funny she didn't call her Marianne; he routinely corrected Amelia to push her buttons. They went upstairs. Amelia rolled her eyes. "Marianne. I'll never be Marianne. She raised six children and runs a restaurant and a bakery."

"With my brother," added Charles. He opened Charlie's bedroom door. He lowered his voice, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. "Who wants to be Marianne?"

"She's a better mother," said Amelia, frowning when Charles gave a frustrated sigh. She patted the small stuffed animals on the bookshelf. "What're we doing in here?"

Charles crossed his arms after opening the curtains. Feeble sunlight filled the bedroom. "Pick up your son, Amy."

"He's sleeping," she said, slowly backing out of the bedroom.

"You don't touch him because he looks like his father." Charles took a few quick puffs on his pipe and shrugged his shoulders when she froze. He beckoned to her with his index finger. Charles felt the boy's head and touched his fingertips. "I thought so. He caught the fever when I took him out yesterday afternoon. You didn't catch that. Why not?"

Amelia exhaled slowly, wanting to be anywhere but here.

"All right, I'm only going to offer this once." Charles picked up Charlie and covered him with a light blanket. Charlie muttered something incoherent, and Charles placed his head on his shoulder. He kissed him. "You need time, and I understand that, I do. But you can't fail at this. This cannot slip through the cracks. I'll take him."

"What?" Amelia thought she misheard him. It sounded worse when he repeated it. She spoke in a dead tone. She wanted to say no, although she couldn't get her thoughts into words. Amelia walked over and sat in the rocking chair in the corner.

"I'm not telling you you're a bad mother," said Charles, checking to see whether Charlie had fallen asleep again. The boy soaked the shoulder of his knit jumper and was out like a light. "I miss him every single day, Amelia. If I showed you a baby picture of Benji at this age, you'd see this boy. Let me help you. Put this responsibility on me. I've got it covered."

"Charles, I can't." Amelia found the offer ridiculous, although part of her wanted to take it.

"Forget about Marianne. Forget about the girls. I don't give a damn about what they think."  
"No." Amelia opened her arms and took her boy when Charles handed him over seamlessly. Like always, she ran her fingers through his hair. She rocked in the chair and muttered to Charlie as he slipped in and out of sleep. Charles stepped into the bathroom and returned with a cold compress and a box of Kleenex. She folded it with one hand and placed it on Charlie's forehead. "Thank you."

"Sure thing." Charles sat on Charlie's bed and crossed his legs. "You good?"

"Uh huh." Amelia let Charlie ruin her dress because it gave her an excuse to get rid of it. "Please don't panic when I ask you this. Will you stay with us?"

"Okay. Yeah." Charles did not take time to think about it. "I'm sleeping in here?"

"The kids can sleep with me," she said, putting the logistics on the back burner. She'd figure it out later because this was a temporary fix. She offered him the antique writing desk. "I have someone in the guest bedroom. You don't want the nursery. It's pink and pretty. Benji did it. "

"No, thanks. Who's in the guest room? Your bodyguard and the happy wife?" Charles raised an eyebrow and returned her smile. He was good at reading the signs. "I like him. Super friendly chap."

"Me, too," said Amelia, closing her eyes. She cursed when Eleanor started crying downstairs. "I swear she waits till I get comfortable because she hates me."

"Yeah, because infants have hit lists. I've got her." Charles got up and stopped when he reached the doorway. "I think we're gonna enjoy this little arrangement." 


End file.
